EasyA Poem by CrowleyI was there for the sax. At the moment, just soulless sounds, foreboding Hapless shoes, strangers shuffling', mumbling'. "You on the hustle man?" "Sho nuff, down to my last twenty." Too much sugar, sweat, spice, fat, clean gumbo, dirty bowl. "What you starin' at shorty?" Like she didn't know. The parade starts, stops, never stops, stops. Neon brings the insects, two legged, surging, swarming. Breasts like novelty coffee mugs, her blouse a bag of feral cats. Turn the corner and hear the first cloying notes. Sax was imminent, brush the back beat like her jet black hair. A seat, a Sazerac, her pooling brown eyes from across the room. Bass and then bass as she stood and slinked to the bar. Swaying to the eternal, hazy rhythm, greeting the yuletide vampires.
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9 Reviews Added on December 24, 2023 Last Updated on December 24, 2023 AuthorCrowleyPhoenix, AZAboutLike to hang out with other writers and see what's what. Have met a lot of good people on this and other sites through the years. Decided to come back and do a little posting and reading. Hit me up i.. more..Writing
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